#i still have my wisdom tooth By the way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

msgexymunson · 1 year ago

Text

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S

Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.

A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn.

🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤

8.8K words

Masterlist

Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom.

Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar.

When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion.

The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed.

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.

Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here.

“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.”

He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door.

“You're not Dr Burke.”

Well done idiot, state the obvious.

“Seems your eyesights OK.”

He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello.

“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.”

He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently.

He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on.

“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.”

Is he flirting with me?

“I-I was at work this morning.”

You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor.

“So, what seems to be the problem?”

“I was, well…”

“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.”

Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit.

You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.

“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”

He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand.

“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?”

“Yeah.”

Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.

“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.”

Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?

“OK, open wide, that's it.”

He puts the little contraption in your mouth.

“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.”

It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out.

“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.”

Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time.

“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.”

“Surgery? Oh God.”

“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?”

Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers.

“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.”

The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.”

A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.

“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?”

“Sure, do what you need to.”

“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.”

My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.

Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me…

Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more.

“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.”

As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.

“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.”

He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here.

“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.”

Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips?

As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know.

“Yeah, it's definitely working.”

“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”

You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth.

“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?”

Sheepishly you hold your hand up.

“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.”

Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.

“Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?”

Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.

“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.”

As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out…

“All done.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.

“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”

“Will you be doing that?”

It rushes out in a blather which you can't control.

“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.”

“OK. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.”

He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you.

“And what should we do with suckers next time?”

Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far.

“I should… suck?”

“Yeah you should.”

A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk.

I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.

********************

It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you.

“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!”

You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves.

“It's not the surgery, its-”

You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot.

“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?”

“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.”

As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you.

“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!”

You blush, thinking about the other day.

“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”

“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?”

“Shut up!”

Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down.

“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.”

“What, this old thing?”

You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it.

Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia.

“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten, nine, eight…”

********************

Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend.

“She's awake! You OK?”

You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic.

“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?”

“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”

“Huh?”

A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right?

“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.”

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed.

“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.”

“Eddie!”

You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still.

“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”

“M’great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.”

Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands.

“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.”

“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!”

Alex pipes up.

“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.”

Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth.

“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”

“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?”

Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”

Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex.

“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.”

“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.”

With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.

********************

The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love.

The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters…

“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.”

“Huh?”

You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different.

Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter?

Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole.

Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.

“Eddie! Er, hi.”

“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”

Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?”

He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth.

“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.”

It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine.

You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence.

“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-”

“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”

He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.

“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.”

Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat.

“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.”

I'll say.

“I can- I can see that.”

He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.

“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?”

What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?

It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug.

“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-”

“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.”

You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag.

“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-”

Hell no.

You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.

********************

Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times.

In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town.

Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway.

Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy.

It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however.

The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.

Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender.

“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.”

Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms.

“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.”

You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you.

“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.”

Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.

“You can't just ignore me, you know.”

Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward.

“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.”

Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it.

“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?”

That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl.

“That's totally unfair you can't just-”

“Ha, got ya talking.”

He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point.

“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.”

Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind.

“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.”

“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.”

“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.”

“Huh?”

Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain.

“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.”

Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention.

“You're not my patient anymore?”

“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.”

“You're not my patient anymore.”

You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head.

“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.”

The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful.

“You wanna come upstairs?”

“Hell yes.”

Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares.

Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision.

Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you.

“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.”

“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now.

“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-”

The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head.

For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.

Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs.

You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.

“So, just a chat, yeah?”

You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.”

Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs.

You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.

No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it.

“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?”

He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains.

“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.”

He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is.

“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?”

“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?”

You huff dramatically, folding your arms.

“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.”

Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest.

“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?”

His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.

“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?”

Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick.

Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live.

You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses.

Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself.

“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.”

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again.

“I don't see a lady here.”

Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear.

“I see a very good girl.”

Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak.

Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least.

He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head.

“Milady.”

You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you.

“I thought I wasn't a lady?”

“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.”

You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer.

“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.”

“Just, put it on the floor.”

Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…”

“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.”

“You have a very good point.”

Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other.

As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so.

“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.”

His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.

So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.

“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.”

Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch.

“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.”

He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers.

“Eddie.”

You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord.

“Hmm?”

He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been.

“Eddie, please, just kiss me.”

“No.”

“No?”

He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.

“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.”

Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.

“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?”

Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat.

“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.”

“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?”

Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face.

“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“No?”

Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.”

Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse.

“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.”

It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”

As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation.

“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching.

“Check what?”

“How wet my words made you.”

‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!”

“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.”

His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness.

“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.”

You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles.

The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth.

His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest.

“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?”

He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch.

“Y-yes.”

“Atta girl.”

He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts.

“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.”

Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other.

When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden.

“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you.

“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.”

Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck.

Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency.

Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building.

Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder.

“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!”

His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”

Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess.

Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar.

“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-”

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.”

Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip.

“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”

Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him.

“Eddie, I can't it's too much-”

“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?”

A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought.

“No,” you whisper.

“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.”

You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl.

Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust.

Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure.

As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt.

An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks.

“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.”

Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you.

“Stay right there, I'll be back.”

You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how?

When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.

“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.”

You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues.

“Eddie, where have you been all my life?”

Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water.

“I came as quickly as I could.”

It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face.

“Can I take you to the bedroom?”

You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms.

“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck.

“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.”

Fuck. You could move in tomorrow.

The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble.

Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button.

“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face.

“I was going to return the favour.”

You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing.

“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.”

He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.

As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident.

“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?”

He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms.

“What can I say, I'm a giver.”

He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick.

“Yes.”

You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you.

“Eddie, holy- fuck.”

“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.”

He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders.

“You feel incredible, so tight for me.”

Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise.

“God you really do like my words don't you?”

Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you.

“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.”

His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little.

“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”

As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you.

“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.”

He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart.

One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear.

“How many times?”

“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls.

“How many times do you want to come?”

You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.

“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?”

He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep.

“What's the most you've managed?”

He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you.

“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”

He stops, looking at you incredulously with a furrowed brow.

“Two? We can do better than that.”

He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin.

Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.

“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.”

Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming.

“Eddie, I-I can't, please-”

“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.”

The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop.

“That a no, sweetheart?”

“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!”

You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back.

“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.”

He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs.

“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”

The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own.

He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles.

You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction.

Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight.

“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!”

You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral.

For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing.

He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed.

“You OK sweetheart?”

“Hmm.”

It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest.

“Hang on a sec.”

He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back.

A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation.

As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat.

“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.”

“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”

Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't.

“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”

Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face.

“You're not leaving, are you?”

“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.”

He pouts, looking much younger than he is.

“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?”

“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly.

“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.”

Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking.

“Really?”

“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.”

Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up.

“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.”

“You mean a one night thing?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“C'mere.”

Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.

“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-”

“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.”

“I know.”

“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!”

You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up.

“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.”

Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now.

“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.”

You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you.

“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.”

“Thief.”

“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.”

Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal.

“So you gonna stay?”

“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes.

“Good.”

Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special.

Permanent Taglist (couple of these are assumed, if you want off let me know! Same if you want to be added sweethearts)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

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k-nahriko · 12 days ago

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

Just a very amateur fanfic to practice my writing skills. Honestly, this kind of reflects my experience with getting my wisdom teeth extracted. Looking back on one of the bond stories with Zayne, he is clearly not a huge fan of the dentist, nor does he pay any mind to his own toothaches. I was curious about how MC would take care of Zayne after he had his wisdom teeth removed.

Synopsis: Considering how Zayne canonically acts when he's drunk, it's kind of silly, right? Think about it. It could go the same way when waking up from anesthesia. Heck, Zayne, being a cardiac surgeon, is well aware of how anesthesia affects people in general. So, I had the idea that MC, being his trusted caretaker for his own dental surgery, would put Zayne in a situation where he would be a bit nervous about how he may act when he's loopy on anesthesia.

Anyway, let me stop rambling. I wanted to write something very heartwarming and hopefully, it can be a decent read. This is just practice writing, after all.

Word Count: 2772

Content: female reader, SFW, sweet, cuddles, anesthesia talk, wisdom tooth removal surgery aftercare, drunk Zayne? (more like loopy Zayne)

5:30 am. It was a bright, early morning, and you were lounging on Zayne’s couch waiting for him to get ready. Today marked his appointment to have his wisdom teeth removed, and you were chosen to take care of him afterward.

The sound of Zayne shuffling into the living room alerted you to stand up. He was dressed warm and comfortable in a simple, thin sweater and pants. You notice him tugging at his sweater collar, and you can't help but point out the elephant in the room.

“Hey, are you nervous?” You step towards him with your hands clasped behind your back.

Upon hearing your teasing tone, Zayne tries his best to sound as nonchalant as possible. “It's not a big deal; it's just like any other visit to the dentist,” he answers as he clears his throat. You shake your head with a smile.

Ah, he is still the same as he was from his last visit to the dentist.

“Except, you’re going to be under anesthesia this time, and you’ll be super drowsy afterward. That’s why I’m here to make sure you don’t bump your head against the walls or say anything embarrassing.” You spread your palms across his broad chest, causing a soft blush to creep up on Zayne’s face and ears.

“And I do appreciate that you’re here. But I get the feeling that you're teasing me about how I might behave once I recover from anesthesia. It’s not like I’m going to be drunk.”

You let out a sheepish laugh as you recall a previous date with Zayne. You had offered him a piece of chocolate that contained traces of alcohol. While you did not intend for him to get drunk, he was very lightweight that night. If it weren’t for you, he would not have found his way back home.

Sure, his drunk behavior was silly and the things he said were out of the ordinary, but it made you curious about how anesthesia might affect him.

“I know, but I promise I’m just here to take care of you and make sure you’re okay.” You smooth out the rest of Zayne’s sweater and give him an affectionate pat. “Let’s get going! You don’t want to be late for check-in.”

You gently take Zayne’s hand and lead him out of the house to his car. Now, normally, he would be the one to drive, but knowing him, he would find any possible way to avoid the dentist. No way you were letting him get away that easily.

It was a chilly morning in Linkon City, and you tried to make the most of the 25-minute drive. You made no room for silence by asking Zayne about work or any movies you wanted to see together. Perhaps you could get Zayne’s mind off worrying for a little while.

You finally arrive at the oral surgeon clinic. Once you park the car, you feel Zayne’s hand enveloping yours. You respond with a loving squeeze and playfully jiggle his hand. “Hey, it's okay. I’ll be right here when you’re done. The doctors here will take good care of you.”

Zayne exhales and gives you a nod. You both exit the car and arrive in the lobby for check-in. You were greeted by the receptionist with a warm welcome. “Good morning. Are you checking in for an appointment?” The young woman hands you paperwork for patient sign-in and an anesthesia consent form.

“Yes, it’s under the name Zayne.” You turn your head to Zayne who is comfortably lounging on one of the lobby chairs. He lowers his head but you catch a faint blush forming on his face.

As you fill in the paperwork, the receptionist types away at her computer. “Perfect, I'll have him checked in. Has he fasted the night prior?”

Poor Zayne. You remembered to follow the doctors' instructions to prevent him from indulging in any food the night before. When you stayed overnight at Zayne's house, you chose to sleep in the living room, taking on the role of "kitchen guardian." It wasn't that you didn't trust Zayne, you just knew he could be a bit sneaky when it came to sweets, even in his home.

“Yes, he had nothing to eat or drink at all. I feel so bad for starving him.” As you hand the receptionist the completed paperwork, she gives you a reassuring smile.

“I understand. It is just for his safety when he's under anesthesia.” The receptionist continues typing on her computer and gives you a nod. “Alright, you can have a seat. I’ll let the doctor know you’re waiting.”

You thank the receptionist and take a seat next to Zayne, who appears a bit tense. Gently, you reach out and rub his left arm. Your heart sinks seeing him so nervous at his own doctor’s visit. But it’s normal; you’ve admitted that you also get anxious at the hospital. However, you’ve come to realize that with Zayne by your side, you feel a little less nervous, and you want him to feel relaxed with you.

“Hello, do I have Zayne here?” Your ears perked up as one of the nurses called for Zayne. He stood up from his seat and approached the nurse. “Yes, I’m here. She’s with me.”

The nurse clasped her hands, her eyes squinting as she smiled under her surgical mask. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Zayne. Just follow me, and I’ll lead you to the operating room.”

Zayne glances back at you in a brief attempt to look brave. You give him a thumbs up and mouth the words, “I’ll be right here.” He nods and follows the nurse to his operating room.

As he disappeared in the clinic hallway, you reclined in your lobby seat and scanned for any daily Wanderer reports from your hunter’s watch. Luckily, you were able to get the day off work to take care of Zayne. In addition, there were no Wanderer reports that raised any concern.

It felt like an hour had passed, and you were dozing off on the chair with your head resting on your palm. You suddenly hear your name being called by one of the nurses.

“Hey, sorry to wake you. But Zayne is all done with his procedure.”

You stretch your arms and walk up to the nurse. “Is Zayne doing alright?”

“Zayne is doing just fine. He is still very drowsy, so we’re just giving him a few more minutes.” She hands you a plastic medicine bag filled with prescription bottles holding painkillers and antibiotics, a curved syringe, and wads of gauze. She leads you to a separate room to give you further instructions. “I’ve given you his medication, mouth syringe, cotton balls, gauze, and some paper instructions on caring for him.”

The nurse points to the paper, neatly folded in the bag. You unfold the paper and read the instructions meticulously. The nurse continues to instruct you on keeping Zayne on a soft diet, making sure his gauze is changed, rinsing his mouth after eating, giving medication, and ice-packing his face to reduce swelling. The nurse is then alerted by the surgeon.

“Zayne is ready now. You can follow me.”

The surgeon smiles and leads you to the room where Zayne is resting. As you enter the recovery room, you find Zayne in quite a state. He is reclined in his chair, with small ice packs surrounding his face. He appears to be half asleep, and his cheeks are stuffed with thick gauze. You try your hardest not to laugh as he reminds you of a sleepy squirrel. Gently, you tap his shoulder. He slowly looks up at you and greets you with a slurred tone.

“It’s you, my love. Where have you been? I can't feel my face.” Zayne reaches his arms out to you as if he wants to be picked up.

What a sight this was. This was a little bit like how Zayne talked when he was drunk. Childish, but still so sweet. His voice was also a bit nasal with the gauze stuffing his cheeks.

You lower his arms down and hold his hands. “Hey, sweetie, I’m here to take you home.” You turn to face the surgeon as he enters the room. “Is he going to be talking like this for a while?”

The surgeon approaches and chuckles. “The anesthesia will make him loopy, but it should wear off in about 1 to 2 hours. So just be aware he will feel pain once that happens. Let’s help him get to the car.”

You went out to park the car by the curb outside the clinic building, and Zayne was brought to the passenger door in a wheelchair. You opened the car door and assisted Zayne into his seat, noticing that his limbs and body had the consistency of cooked udon noodles. You grabbed a neck pillow and a blanket from the back seat to ensure he was comfortable. Once Zayne was securely in his seat, you waved goodbye and thanked the dental clinic staff.

On the drive back home, Zayne rambled for what felt like 20 minutes about how much he missed you and how hungry he was. It was more lively than the drive to the oral surgeon clinic.

Upon arriving at Zayne’s house, you helped him to the front door, supporting him with your hand around his waist and his arm over your shoulder. You could feel his weight against you as he struggled to keep his balance. Despite holding him like a ragdoll, you managed to input the passcode to unlock the front door. You led him to his bedroom and tucked him in, patting his chest under the thick bed sheets before planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Now, just rest here. I’m going to heat the soup I bought you and make you a strawberry banana smoothie.”

You could hear Zayne slightly groan and rub his eyes. He reaches for your hand and requests with a slight squint in his eyes. “After I’m done napping, can please you buy me some macarons? I want the blue ones..”

You giggle and shake your head. It was like he was a little kid who was innocently begging for something sweet. Then again, you found it very endearing when Zayne was young at heart. You ruffle his hair before you exit his bedroom.

You wag a finger at him. “Sorry mister, doctor's orders state you can’t have macarons. They may be a soft dessert, but you shouldn’t have anything sugary until you recover! But I promise I’ll make the smoothie sweet enough for you.”

Zayne’s habit of indulging in his sugar cravings was no secret, but you were the one to call him out for it and keep him accountable. You both shared a love for sweets, but you could vouch that Zayne had the stronger sweet tooth.

You leave the room and enter Zayne’s kitchen to prepare his meal. The store-bought chicken noodle soup was boiling along with the blender, forming a smoothie from the fresh-cut fruit. It wasn’t uncommon that you were the person trusted most to care for Zayne, especially when he needed it.

For as long as he’s been your primary doctor, he’s insisted on taking care of you most of the time. This meant Zayne would barely take the time to take care of himself, whenever he got sick or hurt.

Especially when it came to his toothaches.

Zayne would mostly just brush it off or try to hide it from you. It was his nature to put others’ needs before his own, and it was something you always adored about him. But..

He shouldn’t ignore his health. A doctor must also be healthy to keep others healthy as well.

You twitch as you hear the creak of Zayne’s bedroom door open. You hear shuffling footsteps behind you and see a very sleepy Zayne trudging towards you while wrapped in a blanket.

You step away from the stove and catch him before his hip can hit the kitchen island. While you cradled his tall figure, he rested his head on yours. You seemed stunned, but you greeted him with a rub on his lower back. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep? Is the pain bad?”

Your questions were left unanswered, instead met with a lazy moan from Zayne. His arms wrap around you with the blanket surrounding your body like a cocoon. “The bedroom is too dark… I want to see you..” He replied, his tone with a tinge of slurring and vocal fry.

As he spoke, his warm breath blew strands of hair on your scalp. You continue rubbing his back, and his heartbeat thumps against your ear. “You goof.. I’m not going anywhere.”

Zayne is cute when he’s needy. The warmth of your body starts to resonate with his. “It’s lonely in my room. I want to sleep on the couch with you and cuddle. You’re so warm. Like a baby seal.”

You can’t help but giggle. Zayne wouldn’t usually express such gushy words, but even under the effects of anesthesia, you could tell he was still himself. You let out a heavy sigh and pushed his black bangs to the side. His cheeks were flushed; the heat was practically radiating off his face. “You should go lie down, Zayne. Your food is almost ready.”

You point to the couch, but Zayne didn't budge. He leans on you again and nuzzles your face. You pull his face down and kiss both of his eyelids. “Go on now, Zayne. Then I’ll feed you.”

Zayne pouts and then starts to drag his slippered feet towards his couch. He looks back at you. “Then we can cuddle?”

Before resuming your cooking, you reply with a smile. “Yes. Then we can cuddle.”

You hear Zayne grunt as he plops onto the couch. After giving the soup a final stir in the pot, you pour it into a bowl. The delicious aroma seemed to have caught his attention. You grab a glass and pour some strawberry banana smoothie from the fridge. Taking a seat next to Zayne, you set the soup and smoothie on the coffee table in front of him.

Zayne slowly sits up and opens a part of the blanket as if he were a bird lifting its right wing. You scoot over and feel his warmth envelop you once more. You start feeding him small portions of the soup, cooling down each spoonful with a blow. He shivered slightly after taking a sip from the smoothie.

Maybe you put a little too much ice..but he seemed to like it.

After Zayne finishes his meal, you assist him in the bathroom to rinse his mouth, change his gauze, and give him his medication. You guide him back to the couch and embrace Zayne. While he rested his head on your chest, he prods at his left cheek, seemingly favoring the numbness in his face. To soothe him, you whisper in his ear and run your fingers through his hair. “Shhh... It’s okay. Is your face feeling tingly?”

Zayne lets out a quiet, “mmhm”. You could have sworn his voice was wavering behind his words. “I appreciate you so much. You’re always taking care of me.”

You continue shushing him and plant a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m here for you, always. My big, cuddly snowman.”

You heard him reply “I love you.” in a muffled voice.

He’s so adorable. Zayne's behavior was slightly different when he was under anesthesia. Despite his ramblings, you couldn’t bring yourself to make fun of him. He could be silly around you, no matter how serious he claimed to be. You cherish the moments when you and Zayne would reminisce about your childhood and engage in playful activities together, even as adults. It didn’t matter whether it was just spending time at home or doing something extravagant; for you, it is time well spent with him.

You whisper back. “I love you too...” Before long, both of you were napping on the couch together. The afternoon sun streamed in through the cracks of the blinds, filling the room with a soft light. It was quiet and still in Zayne’s house, the only noticeable sound being the synchronized breathing of the two of you. The voice in your head whispered.

"I’ll be here to take care of you. Just like you always take care of me."

#love and deepspace #lads #mc love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #love and deepspace fic

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flyingwargle · 3 months ago

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november fanfic recs!

we're almost at the end of the year, but there's always fanfic to be read! check out previous months' recs: october, september, august, july

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

can we always be this close (forever and ever?) g. 3.1k. sakusa approaches osamu to ask for his ring size because he plans to propose to atsumu. osamu instead interrogates him to see if he's ready to be with atsumu forever, while suna watches. very endearing with the best ending ever.

The Wisdom Tooth Incident™ g. 4.8k. atsumu gets his wisdom tooth removed and forgets about sakusa in his post-anesthetic haze. i will never tire of this trope. you can pry it from my cold, dead hands.

city of millions t. 7.2k. mostly sakusa-centric and background sakuatsu. a beautiful love letter to sakusa's early years of university, his friendship with akaashi, and learning to reconnect with things that he left in the past (things being miya atsumu).

lingua franca m. 9.1k. sakusa learns about the different love languages through his life and finally finds someone who has the same love language as him.

itadakimasu t. 10.9k. pro athlete sakusa puts out an ad for someone to cook him meals, and aspiring chef atsumu answers his call. a slow but beautiful partnership that leads to love.

double lift e. 12.8k. 3/3. accidentally been reading a lot of winterwaltz6's works this month huh (they're all very good though). this one is the intimacy of sakusa helping atsumu re-dye his hair after he's been on the bench due to a knee injury. very soft and warm <3

halfway to sunrise e. 12.9k. atsumu offhandedly tells sakusa that he can sleep with him and sakusa takes him up on it. fwb to lovers.

hustle for that muscle e. 13.8k. atsumu and suna make a bet on who can get an underwear ad first, and the loser has to ask their respective crush out. atsumu loses, hence the hilarious attempt to ask sakusa out, which leads to eventually trying to sleep with him.

anchor m. 21.3k. atsumu helps sakusa through his panic attack and sakusa reciprocates in turn. augh, the emotional damage this caused, but the fluff made up for it. beautiful writing and discussions of mental health.

take two e. 23k. 3/3. sakusa reconnects with his ex, atsumu, after finding him on an adult site, and maybe, just maybe, they'll rekindle their relationship. the prose was full of so much pining and love.

A Thousand Cuts t. 37.9k. 3/3. this is the perfect study of misunderstandings, miscommunication and unrequited love. absolutely heartbreaking with gripping prose.

hand study e. 84.4k. 7/7. atsumu injures sakusa's hand and becomes his personal helper while he heals, with benefits. fwb to lovers with a healthy dose of angst but has a happy ending.

Lessons in Falling e. 87.2k. 6/6. sakusa resists from falling in love with atsumu because he believes his family is cursed with falling out of love and dysfunctional relationships. atsumu is so tooth-rottingly sweet and patient while waiting for sakusa to make peace with his family. gripping prose and tension. one of my favorites <3

iwaoi

thrilled by the still of your hand t. 2.6k. iwa and bokuto arm wrestle. that's it, that's the fic. and oikawa kisses iwa but that comes later.

tattoo your name across my heart g. 5.4k. iwa drunkenly gets oikawa's name tattooed on his arm. SO CUTE. SO FLUFFY. augh my heart, they love each other so much.

Even here, there is light t. 11.4k. single dad oikawa finding love in iwa. oikawa's son is so lovely in this, along with their love.

come get me, come love me m. 20.7k. oikawa is invited to a wedding upon his return to japan and comes face to face with his ex, iwa, after several years. a lovely, lovely fic of coming back together <3

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run) m. 27.6k. oikawa's knee isn't healing the way it's supposed to be, thus a long journey of getting surgery and enduring the rehab that follows. iwa is with him every step of the way.

bokuaka

and i have never felt so bright t. 16.5k. 5 times akaashi told himself not to be selfish in life and 1 time he decided to. the 2nd chapter blew me away with the domestic details and eventual getting together. such a sweet fic.

down, boy e. 87.8k. 15/15. think of sakuatsu's terminal curiosity but bokuaka. that's all i can really say without being too detailed, other than it's slow burn with a lot of spice.

sunaosa

check out all the wonderful works from the sunaosa autumn gift exchange that were revealed in november! there's lots to read and fanart to see <3

the universe called and said we're soulmates t. 3.8k. suna starts dreaming of his relationship with osamu in different universes. so sweet and beautiful!

two drinks t. 4k. suna falls head over heels with the barista to the point that he orders coffee every time he sees him. except he doesn't like coffee. absolutely hilarious!

moonlight e. 5.5k. emotional spice featuring suna having low self-esteem and osamu wanting to show him that he's loved. beautiful, with so much affection from osamu to suna.

stop me if you’ve heard this one before… g. 6.4k. osamu is a dumbass and keeps forgetting about relationship milestones and suna just finds it amusing. find yourself a partner that finds your forgetfulness endearing like suna, seriously.

god in jeans t. 22.4k. atsumu accidentally kicks a god's shrine and ends up indebted to them - i.e. suna. outsider pov watching suna and osamu fall in love despite suna's god status, with a healthy amount of angst and an eventual happy ending.

drowning in gravity m. 24.1k. exes to fwb to lovers. suna being emotionally constipated, osamu being patient but also impatient...combine all that together and you get angst with a happy ending.

other

And flowers bloom in his wake g. 10.6k. kurodai. modern magic au where everyone has a unique ability and daichi's ability is that flowers grow where he walks and kuroo makes it his personal mission to protect those flowers (and fall in love in the process).

know what a river can be g. 13.6k. oikawa-centric. a character study of oikawa's time overseas to pursue his volleyball career with bodies of water as the main motif. beautiful prose with an uplifting ending.

Point Break t. 18.3k. daisuga. the karasuno 3rd years undergo the most ridiculous heist of all time. HILARIOUS. so cute and endearing as well, and so, so dumb. on-point prose, pining, and getting together. one of my favorites this month <3

heaven's here, it's right where you're standing t. 47.2k. 8/8. kuroken. kenma, a cancer survivor, moves to a small seaside town for a change of pace and meets kuroo, the local science teacher and volleyball coach. slowburn romance with perhaps one of the best twists that i have ever read.

Making a Home g. 106.3k. 27/27. arankita. kita is a foster parent whose license is about to expire when he's given the miya twins to foster, after they've been passed from one abusive household to the next. a beautiful story of found family and love.

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sunkeji · 1 year ago

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Hello!! If it alright can i request a tsukishima(+anyone else separately) x reader where the boys get a wisdom tooth removed so they're loopy and high from the meds and the reader has to take care of them?

a/n: I'm so sorry that I didn't get to your req sooner. If you're still alive and following my blog, I hope you have the heart to forgive me 🙏 also I'm trying a new format tee hee.

Tsukishima

My guy is dazed. I'm talking about his eyes looking hazy, and he's just staring at you. He's literally just staring at you with this sort of confused and serious face, like he's trying to figure something out.

He's got cotton balls stuffed in his mouth to apply the needed pressure, which makes his cheeks look a little puffy. His face right now is contrasting with his usual stoic expression.

Of course, you're going to have to take pictures to show him later to use as material for your teasing and because he looks absolutely cute.

Now he's still high and kind of loopy from the medicine that they gave him so I'm sure he's still feeling sleepy. So you opt to take a cab back to his home, and during this time, he's gotten a bit touchy. He's leaning against your shoulder while slumping in his seat as he fiddles with your fingers.

Fast forward to when you're in his room together. You helped settle him down in his bed after helping him change into a set of comfortable clothes. And of course, he treated you like some sort of pervert for wanting to stay while he changed. You just rolled your eyes and faced your back toward him.

You wanted to make him a smoothie to help with the soreness, or at least some soft foods that'd be easy for him to consume. But before you could do so, he had gently grabbed your hand and led you to his bed.

He was acting shy now, asking you to join him in bed. He obviously wanted to cuddle since he got out of the procedure and was just thinking of ways he could ask you to cuddle with him without actually asking.

Give your tsundere boyfriend some love, he becomes clingy and less emotionally constipated when he's feeling sleepy and high after all.

Bokuto

Just like Tsukishima, except he becomes 10 times clingier and acts like an overgrown baby.

As soon as he's out of the dentist, he's drooping himself all over you. It's like he's leaning almost all of his body weight against you, and mind you, he is no small guy. So it's not unexpected when you get some stares after leaving the dentist.

So it becomes a race against time to get him home before he collapses from the drowsiness or before he starts getting rowdy.

When it comes to him, forethought is necessary. Like booking a ride in advance to ensure your arrival back home wouldn't exceed 15 minutes because, as sad as it is to say it, you don't think your boyfriend can behave for more than that.

And you reach home just in time because, as soon as you step out of the cab, he's sulking about something. You're not sure what it's about this time, but you attempt to get him into the lift first.

You're so close to getting him into his house when he stops dead in his tracks and starts accusing you of not loving him. You don't know how he ever got to that conclusion. You make a sarcastic remark that breaks the dam, and he starts wailing.

You're panicking now, trying to get him into the house before any neighbors start to come out and investigate the source of the noise.

So in a last-ditch effort, you shove him the littlest bit into the house and shut the door. You turn around only to see him on the floor, sobbing and acting as if he's in a soap opera.

You sigh and just go into his bedroom to prepare the bed for him and clothes for him to change into. When you're done, you call him by his favorite pet name and promise him you'll cuddle with him until he's sober.

He perks up at the use of the pet name and scrambles to get into his room to change, and once he's done changing, he grabs you and tackles you into his bed until you're both snug under the covers.

Now he's bombarding you with questions about questions with obvious answers, like whether or not you love him, as he's nuzzling his head into you.

#haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader headcanons #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #bokuto x reader fluff #tsukishima x reader fluff #hq x reader

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lucifersdickriderdotnet · 7 months ago

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Sick and Tired

Summary: you can't say that anything about having a chronic illness is fun, but at least you have friends who care about you. 2.7k words

Disclaimer: GENDER NEUTRAL READER I wrote this in one go at like 3am. So. All of the brothers are in this but it's more platonic than anything else? If you want you can read it as romance because I did imagine kissing several of them on the mouth while writing it. also shout out to the author on ao3 that called Asmo "Momo" and then pointed out that it means "peach" in japanese. I did steal that nickname. lmk if it was you though bc I will credit you.

Notes: This is based on my own personal experience with a mystery disease that has been plaguing me since I hit puberty. I'm going to be very real, I wrote this for myself as a way to cope because I got #sad. it sucks, for sure, but there are some things that make it more bearable and isn't that how life works anyways?

The cool thing about being a human in what is essentially hell is that when diseases happen, you are more or less immune to them. The bad part about being a human in what is essentially hell is that you’re human and it’s essentially hell. Because of this, there are some things that you’ve had to explain to your housemates, or to an overeager Diavolo, or to a concerned Luke. You had to talk Lucifer down from renovating the whole House to put in an elevator because he was “worried about your flimsy human joints.”

“I have bad joints, regardless.” You remember saying, “I’m a human, it comes with the territory. Don’t put an elevator in the House, I don’t like them anyway.”

You’ve had to explain that while you’re grateful that they managed to find vitamin D supplements, they’re meant to be just that, a supplement to spending time in the sun, something the Devildom doesn’t have. So while your symptoms have been alleviated, they have not been fixed. Levi fixed this by buying you something like a heat lamp.

“Where did you even find this?” You’d said after he’d forced you underneath it.

“You’re gonna hate the words that are going to come out of my mouth.” His hands stilled from where they were busy attaching it to the wall by your bed.

“Just tell me.”

“Some demons used to, emphasis on ‘used to’, own humans as pets. So they made these little lamps to mimic the sun or whatever.” You blink at him, rapid fire before shrugging a little.

“Humans used to own each other.” He turns his head to gape at you like a fish.

“What?”

“Yeah it was a whole thing. There are still lasting repercussions that echo through our modern society.”

“That’s insane.”

“I thought I told you before that human cruelty knows no bounds.”

Solomon of course, is no help, because while he may be human, he is old. You’d complained of jaw pain once, something about your teeth aching.

“It might be a demon.” He’d said this confidently at the one dinner a month he’s allowed to have with the brothers. As per the dating-Asmo-agreement he made with Lucifer.

“It might be a what?” Satan’s head whipped towards Solomon so fast you thought he broke something.

“A demon. Tooth pain is caused by little demons in the teeth.” You stared at him like he grew a second head.

“No, it’s not. It’s caused by bacteria eating away at your teeth. And that’s just for cavities. This could be something completely different. Also, I don’t think humans have believed the demon teeth thing in forever. God, you’re old.” Your frustrated rebuttal of Solomon’s “wisdom” had not stopped the brothers from checking you up and down for curses or signs of possession.

So, for the most part. It’s fine, and you don’t mind explaining these things to them just like they don’t mind explaining demon culture to you. This though, you’ve never been able to explain to anyone, so you can’t explain it to them either.

—

“I’m so tired,” it’s noon and you woke up from sleeping two hours earlier. Asmo has dragged you out of the house for some shopping spree, and while you were excited to go, your energy levels have quickly depleted.

“But darling! We just started!” Despite saying this, he’s walking towards the register with the clothes he’s decided he likes, willing to cut his trip short if it’s for you. You shake your head.

“No, no, keep shopping. I’m always tired, Peach.” He hums and goes back to perusing the shelves while you stay seated by the dressing room for his mini fashion shows.

You don’t just get tired while hanging out with Asmo, it happens everywhere. Beel has to catch your head when you almost faceplant into your lunch. You spend a Devildom History class fighting to keep your eyes open while Satan takes twice the amount of notes as usual so you don’t fall behind. Levi asks you to watch a special livestream of a Sucre Frenzy concert and you have to sit down halfway through because you’re suddenly dizzy. You even fall tired while driving Mammon’s car, once.

He’d been in the passenger seat, fretting over your every move, and you’d understood despite the fact that it was incredibly annoying. This car was his baby, something he was incredibly proud of, something he worked hard to get. Still, having someone freak out over your driving usually makes it worse.

You’d been gently reassuring him of your skills when you felt it, the familiar pull of your eyelids, the way your brain seemed to slow down. It takes you a second longer than it should to register the red light and you have to slam on the brakes to avoid running it. It’s not too soon after that when you decide to pull over and have Mammon drive you home. You fall asleep on the way back.

—

This all comes to a head when you manage to outsleep Belphie.You aren’t sure how you did it, honestly. You went to bed on Friday afternoon and vaguely remember being woken up because a meal was ready. You remember making some sort of affirmative noise and then going back to sleep. You have hazy memories of stumbling to the bathroom and chugging down bottles of water, but mostly it was just sleep. Then, Belphie is shaking you awake. He’s saying something you can’t quite hear and Beel is picking you up and carrying you to the living room and the lights are so bright it turns your brain back on.

“Belphie, did you do somethin’?” It’s Mammon’s voice, accusatory. Someone pokes your cheek.

“So you kill a guy once and suddenly everything that happens to them is your fault?” His reply makes you snort.

“Did you or not?”

“No. This is… this is something else.” He sighs and then one of your eyelids is being manually opened so he can make eye contact with you before he lets go and your head drops slightly. “I know what my sin feels like. I know what Sloth feels like. It’s a choice, mostly. It’s the action of choosing to do nothing rather than something. This is something else. Something completely different.” You yawn and scrub at your eyes, finally opening them to stare at your posse.

“Did I get a fanclub while I was napping?”

“You’ve always had a fanclub,” Levi says quietly.

“Napping? You call that a nap?” Asmo pokes your cheek and you assume he’s the one who did it the first time.

“How do you know they have a fanclub?” Satan turns his head to Levi and his brother turns a bright shade of red.

“I’m the president.” He says. Beel raises his hand.

“I’m VP. We hold meetings every Wednesday. Lucifer pretends it’s stupid but he’s always in the club room ‘doing student council work’.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Lucifer finally interjects, not wanting to deal with his brothers’ needling. Satan grumbles something about him being a loser under his breath. “Are you aware of how long you were asleep for?”

“I mean, I dunno,” you stretch your arms above your head and almost hit someone in the face. “I remember someone coming to me about dinner, so probably a while. Why?” Lucifer sighs and rubs a hand down his face.

“It’s Sunday afternoon.” You stare at him blankly.

“This is the worst joke you’ve ever told.”

“I am not joking,” he says and Levi shoves his D.D.D under your nose. Sure enough it says that today, the day you are finally awake, is Sunday. It says that it’s 2pm. You’ve slept for almost a full 48 hours. The thought brings tears to your eyes immediately and Levi freaks out.

“No wait, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do when you cry!” His hands are flapping around your face uselessly and it makes you laugh and choke on a wet sob.

“You can back the fuck up, for starters.” Satan bodily pushes his brothers out of the way to get to you, placing a box of tissues on your lap and sitting next to you. Not close enough to touch, but enough so you know he’s there.

“Sorry,” you take a tissue and blow your nose. Beel holds out a trashcan and Asmo pretends not to be disgusted. It’s sweet. “Crying in front of people is so cringe.”

“Being vulnerable and crying is not something you should be ashamed of,” Lucifer says and it’s weird to have your own words parroted back at you.

“Why’re you apologizin’ anyway? ‘S not like you did anythin’ wrong. We’re just worried is all.” Mammon runs a hand over your hair as he says it before remembering himself and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s never been this bad before. I’ve never slept for damn near two days.”

“So this is a recurring problem?” Satan has procured a notebook from out of nowhere and has his hand poised to write down what you’re saying. Presumably to go scour his books for a solution.

“Yeah. It’s … I’m tired a lot. Always, really. I’m tired right now, actually. Sometimes it’s worse than others but … I don’t really know what’s wrong.” You huff, “I was actually in the process of getting tests done to figure it out when I got magic-ed here. Isn’t that funny?”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Asmo is resting his head on your shoulder and you tilt your head so it rests on his.

“Not really. ‘M sorry, Peach. I’d tell you if there was.”

“I always wondered why you had such deep eyebags. I thought it was something in your skincare routine.”

“It’s also genetic.”

“Humans have genes for dark under eyes?” He sounds horrified at the prospect.

“Sure do.”

“That’s miserable.” You laugh at him and he squeezes your hand gently.

“So, yer just… tired.” Mammon asks.

“Mhm.”

“Chronically.”

“Also yes.”

“I didn’t know you knew the word ‘chronic’, Mammon,” Belphie ribs Mammon from his spot on the floor. You kick him slightly.

“Don’t be an ass.” He sighs dramatically and flops over onto his back.

“It’s good to know it’s not a freaky demon thing.” He peers up at you from underneath his bangs.

“Yeah. I’m kind of tired of dealing with freaky demon things. No offense.” There’s a chorus of agreement throughout the room and you can see everyone relax a little now that they know.

“It is a shame though,” Lucifer says, “that it is not demon related.” His brow furrows. “Those I can fix.” You shrug and slightly jostle Asmo’s head.

“Eh. That’s life. Thank you for being concerned though, I appreciate it.” Your stomach grumbles. “I guess I should eat, huh?” Asmo graciously lifts his head off your shoulder and you head to the kitchen, Beel on your tail.

“There’s nothing we can do?” He looks sad, and he’s rubbing his wrist in that way he does when he’s nervous. You’re struck with the realization that Beel is the defender of his family. He’s physically the biggest and the strongest, and he’s been looking after them and taking care of them physically for basically forever. It must be excruciating for him to not be able to help you.

“No,” you shake your head sadly, “I’m sorry, Bug.” You step forward and give him a hug. He returns it and you pretend you can’t feel him cry.

—

Things are different after that. Asmo tries to hang out with you in places closer to the House or in his room. Lucifer pulls you aside and tells you both his room and his study are always open for you if you need them. Beel takes you to the gym with him so you don’t stay too sedentary, but is always willing to stop working out if you need to go home. Satan almost gets into a physical altercation with a teacher over you sleeping in class and you find out later that Belphie gave him nightmares for a week. Levi doesn’t make you sit through as many anime binges anymore, instead separating them up into something more bite sized so you can properly enjoy it. It’s nice, you think, that they’re trying to take your needs into consideration.

Diavolo catches wind of it and sneaks his way over to the House to ask you questions. Walks into Lucifer’s study where you’re trying to do assigned reading like he owns it, and you think that he probably does in some way.

“Diavolo–” Lucifer stands up and Diavolo laughs.

“Don’t worry! There is nothing wrong! I just had some questions for our lovely exchange student.” He sits down in the armchair across from you and you set your notebook down.

“What’s up?” You can hear Lucifer mumbling prayers to a God who will no longer listen to them and it makes you snort.

“I have learned of your condition.”

“I gathered.”

“There is nothing I can do?”

“Do you have several degrees and a shit ton of fancy machinery?” Lucifer chokes at your language. Diavolo smiles at you.

“Can’t say that I do.”

“Then, no. There isn’t.” He hums thoughtfully and you busy yourself with trying to figure out Lucifer’s Demonus organization pattern. It doesn’t seem to be by age, so maybe it’s by color?

“What does it feel like?” Diavolo’s question draws you out of your comparison of two almost identical wine reds. You think one has a brighter undertone but that could be the color of the label.

“Have you ever been tired?”

“Indeed.”

“Have you ever not slept, for like, a whole day, and you can feel that your brain isn’t working at maximum capacity?” He nods. “Have you ever felt like you were trying to run in a swimming pool?”

“I can run in swimming pools.” You roll your eyes.

“Can you run through slime?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“It’s like that. It’s being so tired that you know you aren’t operating at your best and being able to do nothing about it. It’s like moving through water. It’s never getting enough sleep. I could sleep the perfect amount for a human my age and I would still be down to take several long naps throughout the day. And it’s not something I can ignore, either. I can’t just power through it. Because after a while, it starts to hurt.”

“Hurt?” He frowns, and it’s weird to see him not smiling.

“Yeah. It’s. When I get too tired my eyes will hurt. It feels like they’re grapes and someone is squishing the life out of them. It feels like a thousand tiny needles poking at my eyes. It feels like someone is squishing the bridge of my nose in their fist and refuses to let go. It makes my stomach hurt, it makes me nauseous and sick, and it makes me dizzy and it’s awful.”

“I see.”

“So, I have to sleep. I have to sleep because if I don’t it hurts and if I manage to get through that my body will make itself sleep, anyway. It’ll just turn off, regardless of if I want it to or not.”

“That. That is miserable. I am sorry you have to experience such a thing.” You shrug a little and stare at your hands.

“What can you do?” It comes out sarcastic and dry. There’s a silence, tense and weighty, and you know what he’s going to ask before he does.

“Do you need to go to the human world?” You can hear Lucifer’s sharp inhale even though he was pretending to not listen.

“Maybe. But, if it is what I think it is, it won’t go away. I’ll just know and get medication. Probably.” Diavolo stands and nods.

“At least you will know. I will figure something out for you.” He nods again, this time to himself. “There is no reason for you to suffer this way.”

“It won’t go away, Diavolo. I’ll still have it.” You need him to know this. You need him to know that it won’t be permanently fixed. You don’t want him to be disappointed when everything’s said and done and you’re still sick.

“Yes, but things will be better, no? Some progress is better than no progress, no matter how small.” He pauses and smiles at you, warm and comforting. “And we will all be there for you. Regardless of the outcome.”

#oh boy this is gonna take seven years to tag #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #im sending curses and plagues to whoever decided to give half the brothers nicknames #(no I'm not)#bee writes

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padfootagain · 5 months ago

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Love in Verses (XVIII)

Chapter 18 : ‘What the devil do I care what I know, and what I say?’

Hi! Here is new chapter! This is a very important chapter… I hope you like it!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3472

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wisdom

This I say, and this I know: Love has seen the last of me. Love's a trodden lane to woe, Love's a path to misery.

This I know, and knew before, This I tell you, of my years: Hide your heart, and lock your door. Hell's afloat in lovers' tears.

Give your heart, and toss and moan; What a pretty fool you look! I am sage, who sit alone; Here's my wool, and here's my book.

Look! A lad's a-waiting there, Tall he is and bold, and gay. What the devil do I care What I know, and what I say?

Dorothy Parker

Classes for the first semester were over. The Christmas Holiday season had come to a close as well, leaving you buried under piles of articles and documents and books to help you get ready for the new classes that would start after the end of the exams.

It was snowing outside, a part of the Liffey had frozen during the night, apparently. Some idiot had tried walking on it, had fallen into the river, you had heard it on the news. He was equipped for a swim in cold waters, but still… how silly people could be…

You were in bed, you checked the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table. Almost midnight. You heaved a sigh. You ought to stop, catch a few hours of sleep before heading to work tomorrow. But you had a thousand things to do and to plan and… God, so many things still…

You were distracted by the vibration of your phone on the bed, looked for it in a hurry under the covers. You frowned as you read Frank’s name on your screen, picked up with a worried frown on your brow. Something ought to be wrong…

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

You recognised the sound of his voice. He was drunk and had been crying. When the two of you were together, he was only in this state when you had a huge fight.

“You’re alright?” you asked him, knowing the answer.

“No, I’m not… God, I’m really not, Y/N. Can you… can you pick me up? I’m drunk, I can’t drive, I don’t know where to go… Christ, I’ve fucked up so bad tonight… please, help me…”

You looked at all the work you had left to do, looked at the time again, but heaved a sigh. Not accepting to help wasn’t even a possibility…

“I’ll come and pick you up. Where are you right now?” you asked him, and you heard the sigh of relief he heaved at your words.

“I’m downtown. At a pub… hang on, I’ll give you the address…”

“What happened? Where’s Samantha?”

He sniffed.

“We had a row.”

You nodded, not surprised.

“Like… a huge one. Our first row. I… I’ve fucked up. She’s home. I can’t go home, I don’t know where to go…”

“You can stay at my place for tonight,” you offered. “It’s alright, I’m on my way.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N… thank you,” he mumbled, the lilt of his accent more pronounced as his words were slurred by alcohol.

“Don’t mention it. I’m leaving now, stay where you are.”

You hurried out of bed, put on some clothes, grabbed your keys. You typed a text while you were in the lift.

Hi, Andy!

Just a warning: Sam and Frank had a row tonight, seems quite bad. Omw to get Frank from some bar downtown. He’ll stay at my place for tonight. Sam might call you too.

You were walking to your car when he answered.

Thanks for the warning. Sam has just texted me, I’ll go to hers.

Good luck with Frank.

You sat behind the wheel, locked your car before answering.

Good luck with Sam too!

You were about to put your phone away in your purse when it vibrated again.

Tell me when you’re home, okay? It’s late.

A tender smile softened your features.

Will do xx

You put your phone away, started driving. It took you a while to find the pub, but Frank was eager to leave, and you were relieved not to have to fight him for his car keys or something like that. Instead, he obediently entered your car. His eyes were red and puffy, he stunk of whiskey, cheap beer, and cigarettes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice made deeper by the liquor, words slurred.

“No problem. Let’s go to my place.”

He nodded in silence, dried his eyes.

“What happened?” you asked as you drove, the streets empty at this hour, the lampposts the only sources of light in the sleeping city as clouds heavy with rain were hiding the moon and stars.

“Sam and I had a fight.”

You hummed.

“What was it about?”

“Something stupid. Fucking stupid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, like… something about the wedding. About the guests we should put together, and I was like… like who cares? People can just… sit… wherever they like. But she was making plans, and I took the piss, and she got… so fucking mad and…”

He sniffed, looked by the window at the empty streets.

“Was fucking stupid.”

“You got angry?”

“Yeah.”

“And you said something stupid?”

“Yeah. How do you know?”

“You generally say stupid and hurtful things when you’re really angry.”

“I don’t mean them.”

“I know. It still hurts.”

He heaved a sigh, rested his forehead against the windowpane.

“I think it was a long-time coming though. We’ve been bickering a lot. I don’t know… it’s just been a lot of stress these past few weeks. I thought it would be better after the New Year’s Eve party, but it wasn’t.”

You slowly nodded.

“I mean… you’ve been moving very fast through this relationship. Maybe you’ve skipped a few steps along the way, and you’re feeling it now.”

He remained quiet for the rest of the drive. When you reached your apartment building, he stared at you, but said nothing.

You helped him through the elevator and hallways all the way to your flat. You texted Andrew that you were safely home while Frank was struggling with his shoes.

Andrew answered in seconds with a thumbs up.

“You think I’m making a mistake, don’t you?”

Frank’s voice brought you back to your apartment, made you put your phone away and turn to him instead.

You weren’t quite sure what to answer, even if this was the perfect moment to speak your mind. You were too taken aback for that.

“Everybody does,” Frank nodded. “Everybody thinks I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have… I don’t know anymore… Maybe… Maybe I’ve made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have left and… I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“I think you’re moving very fast. I think all this is going too fast,” you spoke with a gentle voice, moving closer to him. “I mean… you pushed back the engagement, then the wedding, when we were together. While this is so sudden… Everything about you and Sam seems sudden.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to do, I… I want it to be fast though, I don’t want to think things through this time around. I don’t want to be cautious, the way we were, you and I, Y/N. I just… I want to live this fully.”

He rubbed at his tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t make any sense right now…”

“You should go to bed,” you gave him a sad smile, but he didn’t notice, he was too tired for that, or… you didn’t know why… but he didn’t notice.

You gave him a pillow and a blanket so he could settle on the couch, he thanked you, closed his eyes.

Before you could move away, he grabbed your hand in his, gave it a tight squeeze. You wanted to cry now.

And then, he surrendered to sleep, and he let go.

Sam wasn’t crying anymore when Andrew arrived to her flat, but her eyes were red and puffy with tears that had already fallen. She let him inside, offered him something to drink while he took off his coat, gloves, beanie and scarf, but he declined. He turned to her with a tender smile, something full of compassion.

“You’re okay? How are you feeling?” he asked with a voice he made deeper than usual, knowing it calmed her down.

“Not great,” she admitted.

“You had a fight with Frank, then?”

“Yeah… we… I… It was pretty bad.”

“Bad?”

“It was a big row.”

“Was he mean to you?” Andrew’s voice shook, a frown digging a line between his eyebrows. “Did he threaten you?”

“What? No! Of course not! We just had a row.”

He visibly relaxed, took a step closer to her. They were standing in her living room, the night was quiet. He wanted to reach out, but he didn’t dare.

“What was it about? Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged, but took a step closer to him too, standing close, so close… He could have pulled her into an embrace so easily…

“We fought about the wedding. We… we don’t want the same thing.”

“About what?”

“Silly things. Unimportant details, to be honest. But I didn’t know how to react to it… like… I know you sigh a lot when you’re annoyed. I know your voice quietens first, and then you raise it. I know you get petty when you’re really angry. I know you need to spend time alone to cool down. I know you’ll want to have the last word no matter whether you’re right or wrong, but you’ll never admit it. I know that it’s useless to simply bury the hatchet, that you’ll bring it up again later if we don’t discuss it when the issue arises. I know you don’t talk about what you feel, that I should not be offended if you just lock yourself up in your office until you’re calmer and we can talk about it. I know it’s useless to make you acknowledge your feelings. I know you’re so fucking stubborn when you really want to be. I know… I know how to deal with you, even with your anger, even with the ugliest of your feelings. Cause I… I know you. But I didn’t know how to handle him. I got mad, and he got mad and I didn’t know what to do. And I made things worse. I don’t know what to do…”

She looked up at him with this specific gaze, and he knew what she needed. He knew it, because he knew her. And she had just told him what he was already painfully aware of, that she knew him like the back of her hand. And perhaps this was the part he missed the most now that he was alone. That he used to have someone who knew him so completely.

He wrapped his arms around her, because he knew she needed a hug. She needed to feel safe and warm, and indeed she rested her head on his shoulder easily.

He held her close, the way he had thousands of times before. He always found solace in it, something soothing, anchoring. When she rose to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, to thank him in a whisper for coming, his chest grew a little warm but he was surprised when his heart didn’t stumble. It didn’t rush, didn’t miss a few beats. It remained steady, although it was content. And the arms that used to soothe him were a nice embrace, a gentle shelter to rest, but they lacked something. Something… he wasn’t sure what it was. He knew that he didn’t feel the way he used to when they held on each other before. He knew he felt less than before.

They remained motionless, bathed in silence for a few minutes, the sound of their breathing the only sign of life in the room. His mind wandered off, instead of being anchored in the moment, unlike the way she used to force his brain to quieten down. Instead, he thought about the classes he had to prepare for the rest of the year, the exams coming up, he thought of Frank and was angry at him for hurting Sam, and he thought of you. He was suddenly worried about you, he hadn’t received any text from you yet, to tell him you were home. Were you alright? It was so late into the night and you were driving to a pub downtown, after all…

He felt his phone buzzing in the back pocket of his jeans, pulled away from the hug. He didn’t notice Sam’s puzzled expression.

“Andy?” she looked up at him with a questioning look.

He didn’t notice she was speaking. He heaved a relieved sigh instead.

I’m home. All good xx

He answered with a mere thumbs up.

“Andy?”

This time he looked up from his phone, put the device in his back pocket again.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay?”

But he knew her. He knew her better than anyone else in this world. He knew this question meant ‘who is texting you at such an hour?’.

“Yeah… erm… It was Y/N. Frank called her to pick him up at a pub.”

“Did he?” she asked, clearly jealous.

Andrew hummed and nodded.

“He’ll stay at her place for the night.”

“Right…”

She seemed uneasy now. Worried.

“And why was she telling you this anyway?”

“Because you asked me to come here too,” he merely answered.

“So, she picked him up?”

“Yeah, they’re at her apartment.”

“Why is she telling you all this?”

“It’s late. I asked her to tell me when she’d be home, just to make sure she was safe.”

She stared at Andrew with an unreadable expression, one he didn’t know how to analyse, despite how well he knew her. Was it a new one? Did he simply… fail at reading her this time?

“Can you stay tonight?”

The question came out of the blue, took him aback.

Stay the night…

“I… don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.

And Andrew wasn’t sure what she meant. Probably for him to sleep on the sofa, but there was something in her eyes… No, she didn’t mean for him to sleep on the sofa…

It was his chance to get her back, and he knew it. He knew it. He could have her back, maybe, he could try, at least…

He thought about kissing her then, closing the distance between them, finding back what they had lost. But instead, he…

Instead, he thought of your lips on his, of your weight in his arms, of your kiss on his cheek while a new year was born.

He wanted to kiss you. He didn’t want to kiss Sam at all…

He didn’t want Frank to be with you now, in your apartment. He didn’t want you to kiss him, he didn’t want you to be with him, and God almighty, he could feel his heart racing at the thought that you could have sex with him…

Slowly, he shook his head.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea,” he mumbled, his voice not sounding like his own.

“But I…”

“I’m sorry… I… I should go. I should go…”

He hurried to her front door, while Sam remained standing in her living room, too stunned by Andrew’s actions to move or say anything. Before she could go back to her senses, Andrew had left.

He had left. When he sat down behind the wheel, he didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t understand his own actions. He could have tried to get Sam back, and instead… instead he had thought of you, he had… he had wished it was you who stood there before him, offering him a chance to kiss you…

Fucking hell… he bloody liked you. He liked you. He liked you enough to push Sam away…

Holy shit…

Andrew was pacing before a tired Alex, who was sitting on his sofa.

Andrew was lucky his best friend was a night owl like him, but even if he naturally longed to go to bed at an unreasonable hour, Alex was still longing to bury himself under his warmest blanket and finally go to sleep now that it was almost four in the morning.

But Andrew was still pacing. He had called Alex after leaving Sam’s flat, panicked, talking too fast about ‘catching feelings’ and ‘being a fucking eejit’ and ‘ruining everything’. Alex invited him to come over, and now Andrew was burning holes in his carpet…

“This is so bad, Alex. So fucking bad…”

“Calm down, it’s alright. You have a crush on Y/N, so what?”

“SO WHAT?! SO WHAT?! I don’t want to have a crush on Y/N! I want to have Sam back!”

“Not anymore, apparently.”

Andrew threw his hands up in the air in frustration. He had a thousand things to say and couldn’t speak them out loud, he just couldn’t. He was never good at this, opening up about his feelings… He buried them instead, and let them gnaw at his heart. Was it healthy? No, but he couldn’t help it. And then he wrote about it, and he felt better, lighter, and things were alright again.

But right now, he was too much in a state to grab some paper and pen and put it all down.

“This can’t be happening, Alex” he shook his head. “I can’t be catching feelings on Y/N.”

“Why not? She sounds like an amazing woman!”

“She is! Don’t get me wrong, she’s… incredible! But I want Sam.”

“You don’t anymore.”

“Of course, I bloody do!”

“Why did you push her away tonight, then?”

But Andrew wasn’t ready to admit that.

“I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“You’re falling for Y/N.”

“She’s my colleague! We share an office! We’re friends! We’re trying to get back with our exes! She’s still in love with the guy!”

“Well, tell yourself those arguments, cause apparently they haven’t prevented you from falling for her…”

“I haven’t fallen, I just… I fancy her, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, of course. Of bloody course.”

“Alright, I need to think straight.”

“Why do you want to get back with Sam so badly anyway?”

“Because… Because I love her. Because she… I’m…”

“The honest answer,” Alex argued, staring mercilessly at his friend.

And Andrew hated him at that moment, for knowing him so fucking well, for not cutting him any slack, for pressing him on into acknowledging how he felt… even the ugly side of himself…

He stuttered, went silent, but Alex was there to push him again. Until Andrew turned to the window and stared at the inky sky where not a single light remained uncovered by heavy clouds. All darkness. The kind so absolute, one would not see a thing if they were lost in it.

He imagined your features on that darkness, painted it with the colour of your eyes, the softness of your skin, the warmth of your lips, built your image on the nothingness of the world.

He wanted Sam… he wanted…

“I want someone to know me,” he whispered, feeling the heaviness of the confession drain all his strengths out of his body, feeling empty as he let the words leave. “I want… I want to be known. I want companionship. I’m afraid to be alone. I’m scared. I’m scared no one else is ever going to know me the way Sam does, and love me anyway. After all, even she couldn’t…”

He fell silent, sniffed as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“God, it’s so fucking hard to be unknown. To have no one like that anymore… It feels so fucking lonely…”

Alex had gotten up without a word nor sound, rested a hand on Andrew’s shoulder.

“Someone else can learn to know you that way again, Andy. You deserve it. You deserve to be loved for who you are. Maybe Y/N could…”

But Andrew shook his head, shook himself out of his friend’s grasp.

“No! No, this is ridiculous! I want Sam! I want Sam! I don’t want Y/N! It was just a flukes, just a glitch, just… I don’t know, a moment of madness! But I don’t want Y/N, I don’t like her, I want Sam…”

“Andy…”

“I want Sam. I must want Sam.”

Andrew rubbed at his forehead, tightly closing his eyes.

“And anyway… even if I don’t want Sam anymore, I can’t fall for Y/N. That’s just… that would just make everything so fucking complicated, and she’s so great, I can’t risk to lose her like that… That would be insane.”

“So… you could want someone else? I could introduce you to someone…”

“We’ll see… we’ll see… I… I don’t know.”

Andrew heaved a sigh, feeling the heaviness of sleep creep up his body. He looked at his watch.

“Christ, sorry, mate… it’s so fucking late… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. You can sleep on the couch tonight, it’s too late for you to drive, and you’re too upset for that.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, mate.”

They exchanged a pair of tired smiles, and while Alex was gone looking for some spare blanket and pillow, Andrew was gathering his thoughts and feelings. Trying to calm down.

He wasn’t falling for you. He didn’t have a crush on you. He wanted Sam, he didn’t want you. He couldn’t want you.

Andrew didn’t like you… he couldn’t like you…

… right?

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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iid-smile · 6 months ago

Text

acne , suo hayato

x gn!reader ! the reader has acne and pimples, you and suo are in an established relationship, reader is kinda lactose intolerant, not proofread

author's note: im not even lactose so idk where milk came from??? but anywayz, uk weather sucks, the economy sucks, my sleep schedule sucks, so i wanted something i could relate to a lil yk?

"go away..." you mumble into your pillow, cuddling it impossibly closer to your body.

"it's concerning how you're not going to school, love. you never skip." suo's had remains on the door handle, but he doesn't make an attempt to open it. "are you that sick? should i get you medicine?"

"'m fine."

well, now he knows you're not. "i'm coming in, okay?" he calls out to you, opening the door at a painfully slow pace so you still have time to object. yet, as he expected, you don't, your figure still on the bed. with a quick glance around your room, he makes his way to the edge of your bed. "talk to me. you trust me, right?"

always such a tease, this guy... "don't say something like that right now."

he chuckles, taking a seat. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry. i thought you'd enjoy the inside joke." it's silent for a while, and a small shift of fabric catches your attention. "can i see your face?"

"no!" your response was instant. "i mean... no, no... i don't– mh..." that small sound leaves your lips as you seem to run out of things to say, wrapping your legs tighter around your pillow.

"why not? is there something wrong?" a gentle hand comes up to touch your hair, but it only ghosts over the strands slightly before pulling away. "bruise, rash, infection? any of those?"

"no..."

suo doesn't like to pry, but he knows that if he wants to get an answer out of you, then he's going to have to work for it. "i don't see why you won't let me look at you. is there something else?"

"yes, there is!"

"but you already said no to what i listed. nothing could possibly be wrong." 'or at least something i'd have to be worried about...' he thought to himself. his voice becomes more audible as he leans closer to you. "right? can i please see you?"

"don't say please like that either!"

"it's only good manners." the feigned innocence in his voice was evident.

"sneaky bastard..." you mutter, sitting up a bit. "fine. but don't be disappointed with what you see."

once you lifted your face from the pillow, suo was half expecting you to look completely different, but you just looked like... you. "huh?"

"it's bad, right?"

"what's bad?"

"do you not see them? i thought the spots are obvious..." you pick up your phone that was beside you and open up the camera. "even the smaller ones."

"oh, those?" so now he's just realising them? the pimples that were literally burning on your skin and were so big you could see them through the screen of your phone when you woke up this morning? "what's wrong with acne? it's natural."

"i don't like them, suo. don't wanna get mad fun of at school..." you poke and prod a bit at your skin, but not too much in fear of irritating it more. "messed up my skin all 'cause i wanted some cereal and hot chocolate at night. and then sat on the toilet for another hour. i seriously hate genetics."

"you still look pretty."

your mind was itching to give him a deadpan expression, but you knew he actually meant what he said. he's only ever honest with you, after all. "you're blinded by love, huh?"

"maybe. but you had me so worried you broke your nose or got a wisdom tooth pulled out." slowly, he places one of his hands over yours that was resting on your lap. "i'm not going to force you to go if you don't want to. but you really don't look any different, believe me."

"i don't know..."

for a while, suo just analyses your expression. furrowed eyebrows, pouted lips, and you're avoiding eye contact, busying yourself with your reflection. as much as you appreciate his kind words, it couldn't really make up for your before and after transformation, and he knew that. "face masks and cucumbers then?"

as he expected, your face immediately lit up. "really?!"

"really." finally, a genuine smile returns to his face, and he stands up. "you stay here until i get back and don't touch your face. we're going to have a full self-care and skincare session together."

he really does get you, even if it's something you'd never thought he'd do with you.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

#wind breaker drabbles #wind breaker x you #wind breaker headcanons #wind breaker imagines #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #wbk suo #wbk fluff #wbk #wbk x reader #suo hayato #hayato suo x reader #hayato suo #suo headcanons #suo drabbles #suo imagines

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somber-sapphic · 2 years ago

Note

Was wondering if I would be ok to request a sick reader with Wandanat where readers just come out of surgery (could be for anything, like injured on a mission, wisdom teeth etc) and they’re kind of loopy still, not really sure if it counts as a sick fix though so I don’t mind if it’s not your thing 😅

A Little Less Wisdom

〖Notes: Okay, I had my wisdom teeth out a few months ago and I thought I'd be funny after waking up. NO. I just cried. I cried a lot. And then I got confused and hit my ride home. It was a long day.〗

〖Summary: You need your wisdom teeth out.〗

〖Word Count: 1320〗

〖Pairing: Wandanat x Sick Reader〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Out of all of the problems you could face as a superhero, ‘impacted wisdom teeth’ was never on your list. It hadn’t even crossed your mind; it just wasn’t something you’d ever believed that you’d need to worry about. Maybe there was a part of you that considered the possibility, but when there were so many other more dangerous things to worry about dental health didn’t really make the top hundred.

But two weeks ago, when your girlfriends had noticed the way you were avoiding hard foods and the copious amounts of over-the-counter pain meds you were taking, they finally said something. It really didn’t click to you that anything was wrong until Natasha had brought it up, a look on her face that betrayed her true concern.

Once they had completed their makeshift intervention, you began to notice the real pain in your mouth and began to wonder how exactly you had ignored it in the first place. Your best guess was that something was always hurting from one battle or another, that this one just didn’t seem too pressing. That sprained ankle had been a worse issue than the tooth pain. Until you noticed it, of course.

After a checkup from Dr. Helen Cho (who reiterated over and over again that she was not a dentist) and a few x-rays later, you were found to have “severely impacted” wisdom teeth. Not just regularly impacted, but severely. Not only that, but it was all four of them. You didn’t do anything in halves.

Wanda had been shocked at how well you had been hiding your discomfort, while Natasha was more focused on helping you to feel better. She wanted you to have surgery as quickly as possible, stating her concerns about possible complications and expected recovery time.

This was her way of expressing her love, getting overly caught up on details, and making sure that everything was 100% taken care of so that neither you nor Wanda had to worry. She was a wonderful girlfriend.

The day of the surgery came and went, a mission getting in the way of your dental care. This didn’t particularly bother you, part of you (as embarrassed as you felt) was incredibly nervous about the operation. You had read up about it in secret and had learned about every single complication ever recorded in human history.

This was, of course, a bad idea. Now you were panicking about dry-socket, nerve damage, infection, and possible death as a result of the anesthetic. The idea of being completely out of control of your surroundings was not one that you particularly enjoyed.

Unfortunately, beings who wanted to destroy the human race could only keep you from getting your wisdom teeth out for so long. The day arrived and you were mildly freaking out about it. Wanda, who could literally sense your emotions, had been trying to keep you calm by distracting you with silly little tasks and offering small comforts.

Natasha was less subtle about her attempts to soothe you; she straight up hadn’t left your side the whole day. She kept murmuring reassurances to you while you watched some dumb TV show and had even done research of her own to combat what you had found. She combatted your fear with love and statistics. These two very different ways of trying to make you feel less anxious were working very well together to put you at ease.

You lay back in the dentist’s chair and stared with panic-filled eyes at your loving girlfriends who were hovering in the doorway, unable to enter the sterile field. Suddenly, a very loud thought filled your head.

It’s all going to be okay. Breathe. We’ll be right here. You’ll be okay.

It was hard to describe how it felt when Wanda projected a thought into your mind. You could tell that it wasn’t a thought of your own, it had a comforting feeling. A soft, gentle, loving feeling. It put you at ease more than the intravenous anesthetic that was being pumped into your body.

The last thing you felt as you closed your eyes was that lingering emotion that Wanda had pushed into your mind.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“They’re waking up,” Natasha murmured, nudging Wanda slightly. The witch looked up from her phone where she had been anxiously tapping away at some game, a look of relief flooding her face. The two women stared down at you, both smiling as your beautiful e/c eyes fluttered open.

“Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” Wanda cooed softly, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of your lashes. You opened your mouth as if about to speak, but then closed it again. You repeated the motion a few times, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you started to reach up for your mouth.

“No no no, let’s not do that. We’ve gotta leave that alone for now, okay?” The brunette chastised, quickly pulling your hand away. You pulled a pout, but the time it took for you to actually change your expression was absolutely hilarious. It took you a full five seconds to register that something had been said and react to it.

“Mh mufh iffmahds.” You mumbled around the gauze, the words you were trying to say lost around the cotton fabric stuffed into your mouth. Natasha leaned forward and bent down to kiss your head, leaving her lips there for a few moments to express her relief. She knew that nothing bad would happen to you, but the anxiety was always going to be there.

“Just rest baby, we’ll talk when you’re a little more awake.” She said kindly, grabbing Wanda’s hand as your eyes fell closed again. The redhead turned to her and grinned before kissing her soft pink lips.

“They’ll be okay Wands.” She reassured, resting her forehead against Wanda’s.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The peace of you being sort of asleep only lasted for twenty or so minutes. This time when you woke back up, you were ready to go. You quite literally came up swinging, your eyes wide and yelling something that neither of your girlfriends could understand through the gauze.

“Woah! Calm down, it’s alright babe, it’s okay.” Natasha said, reaching over to grab your fists.

“The chicken! The chicken’s comin’!” You cried, forcing the words out as you struggled against the grasp of your concerned girlfriend.

“What are you talking about? There’s no chicken!” The redhead replied, sounding frantic as she dodged a kick aimed at her face. You weren’t fully coherent, but your fighting skills were still very much intact. You had trained for this and were using your training to keep yourself safe from the aforementioned chicken.

“Robot chickens! So many, too many, can’t do it, gotta go!” You spat out, starting to get out of the reclining chair. You made it halfway up before falling back again, not entirely prepared for the weight of gravity. Gravity was hard.

“Y/n, Y/n. Listen to me. There are no chickens, okay? We’re in medical, you had surgery, and it’s all okay. Relax babes. You’re safe. It's just Nat and me.” Wanda soothed, putting every bit of calming energy into her voice. She felt bad for using witchcraft on you to alter your emotions, but she needed to calm you down as quickly as possible.

Thankfully, it worked. You sat back and relaxed, your body going limp against Natasha’s. You quite literally fell against your favorite assassin but remained conscious this time, breathing heavily as you relaxed again.

“I don’t like poultry.” You grumbled, nuzzling your face into Natasha’s shoulder. The redhead laughed softly, and Wanda let out a weary sigh, a grin spreading over her face. The operation was over, but it was becoming more and more obvious that that had been the easy part. Now they had to deal with an incredibly confused, slightly high you who would probably remember absolutely none of this.

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hot-astrology · 10 months ago

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EYE CANDY

It's something about going to the candy shop! you always see what you like, want, and have a taste for! mmmmmm! your crave and taste buds be out of this world! words cant define the experience you go through. From the drooling of your mouth, to your nipples slowly piercing your blouse! the goose bumps that trickle down your arms. Your eyes drawing in all the sweet goodness from one glance! making your glucose levels sky rocket! you lick your lips! envision her melting on the tip of your tongue while your tongue flicks up and down on her caramelized body until you reach her soft creamy core! taste buds are a thing of the past! you now entered the CANDYSHOP ZONE! where all your sights, stares, glances, envisions, come to TRUE!

I Want you to open your minds, expand your curiosity, think of that person or people that give you that high! that rush! that suga tooth! you can taste them from their sight! and their energy. We are going welcome you into our candy shop where anything goes, all the candy is free! well some of it. This store is open 24/7 and 365 days a year to satisfy your lustful, tasteful desires. Your eyes become so dilated and consumed by the beauty, handsomeness and attractiveness its seeing! your dopamine and serotonin levels are at all time high! you can feel the warmth and melting chocolate sliding down your open mouth! as it coats your esophagus! As you watch her walk away in her sexxy sundress! you take a bite into that warm, glazed honey bun! with a imagination and great fantasies of them clapping all over your snickers!

Its so fascinating how seeing a persons body could give you a high or a rush and have you lusting after them! What is it? is it my walk? my swagg? My defined chest and abs? or her pretty complexion with those juicy thighs? The way she sits? Whatever it is, its appealing and alluring! here are some asteroids that shows you why you are so charismatic, enchanting and pleasant to the eyes! and why you see others as a dessert or piece or sweet delicious candy!

Candy 3015

Shows how you attract others into your life! What people see attractive about you. You could be eye candy on display!

Bella 695

This is represented by pure beauty! not only exterior but internal as well! When you feel beautiful you attract beauty! very lovely energy!

Aphrodite 1388

blessed with glamour, attractiveness, magnetism and charm! shows your pure allure to pull suiters in.

Glo 3267

where you shine or light up the most! you can be seen from anything you do or who you are! or what you look like that moth under the street light!

Lilith 1181

Your dark, tempting, rebellious nature or energy turns heads and starts flare! you walk in a room to leave it consumed with your unique edge unapologetically!

Erato 62

This energy displays in your poetic nature that still derives from how you speak it, write it, show it! you could be a sexual body artist or turn art into sex!

Adonis 2101

What you idolize in yourself or others! shows what type of allure you have on others. It shows your sexiness, handsomeness and potential to be looked as a great mastepiece!

Medusa 149

Makes you powerful beautiful in all aspects, beauty, knowledge, wisdom, mental strength, tackful, resourceful, clever, sex appeal and winning others over! and extra beautiful!

Ptah 5011

This is where words cant define your appearance! pure essence and enchanting energy! your romantic nature as well as your grace and elegance!

A few more.....

Kallisto 204

Listitsa 672

Gaussia 1001

Circe 34

Sado 118230

its so many, and alot have multiple meanings.

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daisy-01-blog · 25 days ago

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Crazy! (Modern! Hisoka x fem! Reader) smut

A/N: I think my wisdom tooth removal makes me not think clearly lmao. For my followers, I’ll still be writing JJK content so don’t worry about it! I’m just trying something out.

SMUT

MINORS DNI

Hisoka is a deranged man, maybe more than that. And everyone knows that.

Being a Yakuza isn’t a small feat. Feared and admired, he’s untouchable. Even the law can’t touch him. He is just simply the strongest.

People question his weird choice of attire, dressing as a clown. Surely a Yakuza could be more sophisticated than that right? but he’s insane. No one dared to look at him.

Some say that he’s a coward, hiding under the pretense of Yakuza to kill people. But no one dared to go his way. And he has a sickly pleasure in knowing that people feared him.

Some people try to fight him, but all of them just ended up dead at the spot. He didn’t have a guard at his house, and didn't even need to. He will kill them all, it gives him thrill although weak mutts like them only give him a small amount of so. He’s gonna have to go on a killing spree again.

***

“Can you believe it? he killed 30 people last night” your friend murmur.

“that psycho, shouldn’t the law do something about this?” You said nothing as you continued your report.

You just simply don’t care, a part of you try to convince yourself it’s because you work in this type of field-as a journalist.

But part of you also know that this is who you really are. A cold hearted bitch.

Your friend calls your name and you have to pretend like you care. “You do know that the law can’t do anything about him” you told her and she sighs.

You finished your report “do you think one of us will be able to interview him?” you asked her.

She shrugs “I don’t know, he scares me”

You pursed your lips, you have been sending email to him countless times.

To interview him about his killing spree. It doesn’t even have to make sense, you need him to talk and being recorded. Hisoka never wants to be interviewed. Paparazzi never follow him, because they will be dead if they do so.

Not only will you be promoted, your company will skyrocket if you’re able to interview him. So you will do anything to have this.

***

You’re able to get onto his ridiculously huge house (mansion) and you knock on his door.

He opens the door with a smug smirk “hello” he’s handsome, but you think it’s weird to have that painting on his face.

“I’m a journalist and I’m here to interview you” you mutter, you bring a camera and a recorder. Also your card.

He smirks “you do know journalists have to go through my e-mail yeah?” He wears ridiculous suits with polka dots. But he looks handsome with his hair slicked back.

You sighed “I’ve tried a hundred times, but you didn’t answer any of them” you mutter.

He grins, and it’s maniacal “then maybe it’s your cue to leave” he mutters.

You’re filled with fear, but capitalism wins again “I won’t leave” you said.

“I’ll kill you” he whispers “twist your pretty neck and you’d be dead” he coos creepily.

You grit your teeth “please” you said “you can kill me after” you know he wouldn’t.

He cocks his head “oh? that so?” he murmurs.

You nodded “I have a proposition” you muttered.

He grins “come inside”

***

The inside of his room is dull, and you’re not surprised. Black and white furniture but pink couch. He has an odd taste.

“Sit down” he mutters “what is your proposition?” he tilts his head.

You stare at him “let me interview you, and I’ll let you fuck me”

He cackles loudly, then he grins maniacally “are you that confident you’ll satisfy me, sweetheart?” he mutters.

You gulp “I’ll try”

He grins “I won’t be satisfied with only one round” he told you “I have great stamina”

You stare at him “I’ll be okay” you mutter.

He grins “suit yourself”

***

You make sure the camera is on, then you turn on your recorder. “Good day, mr. Hisoka” you mutter to him. “Good day” he grins, and you feel very nervous all of the sudden.

You make sure you’re in frame as well.

“I’ll cut straight to the chase” you said to him “why did you kill the 30 people?” you asked him.

He grins sadistically “I was bored” he murmurs

“I went on a killing spree once a month to satiate my bloodlust”

“Why once a month?” you asked him. He shrugs “just feel like it” he mutters ambiguously and you know that’s the closest thing you can get on that question.

“What do you feel when you kill people?” you asked him.

He grins “thrill” he mutters “the stronger the people are, the more I feel the thrill” You try calm your nerves down even though he can kill you anytime here

“do you feel regret about your victims?” He cackles “no” he mutters “never even cross my mind”

After half an hour, the interview ends and you turn off your camera and recorder.

He grins “strip” You gulped, as you do so.

***

You shudder as he slurps and lap your pussy, shaking your hips as his long tongue toys with it.

“Has been a long time” he mutters, muffled as he licks and lap your pussy. You shudder as you splurt.

He didn’t stop kissing and making out with your pussy, you moan as you cum again.

You mewl as he fingers you roughly, grinning “you look blissed out” he coos teasingly. You moan as his long veiny fingers move in and out of you, the squelching sounds mewling loudly.

This is the hand he used to kill people, but it turns you on knowing so. He grins as you splurt.

You gasp when he unzips his pants, showing his huge cock-pink and all veiny. You gulped. His cock nudge your pussy as you moan, he grins “not backing down?” he teased you and you think of doing so. It’s too big.

But you shook your head, and he grins as he plows your pussy roughly-he grunts at how tight it is. He wastes no time as his cock abuses your pussy “shit” he curses as you moan in delight.

He grins "too fucked out to think aren't you?" He plows you harder as you squeal in pleasure. His cock is too good in you.

You moan as his cock scrape your gummy walls, you shudder as he grunts and plow it-his bed creaked as the squelching noises fill the room. "So sloppy" he grunts "you feel like a virgin" with that he splurts inside you.

You pant in bliss as he grins

"another round"

***

You get recognition and instant promotion after what happened with that clip you submitted. You get praises anywhere since Hisoka is untouchable.

"How did you do it?" Someone asked in amazement.

Your thighs shake from what happened-from the many rounds.

"Luck, I suppose" you manage a smile.

#hisoka #hxh 2011 #hunter x hunter #Hunter x hunter hisoka #hisoka x reader #Hisoka x reader smut #hisoka smut #hisoka morrow #reader insert

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narenohate · 7 months ago

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my golden guard! luz au is just kinda funny to me. she's so bad at it that god has to intervene so she stops fucking up.

context blast up there... or down here?

“Through me you go to the grief wracked city; Through me you go to everlasting pain; Through me you go a pass among lost souls. Justice inspired my exalted Creator: I am a creature of the Holiest Power, of Wisdom in the Highest and of Primal Love. Nothing till I was made was made, only eternal beings. And I endure eternally. Surrender as you enter, every hope you have.”

― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

Through the red he'd carried her. She remembers it in those minutes. It had just happened, hadn't it?

Why does it feel so long ago, if the pain of the broken rib and the warmth of her own cape still are felt, a residual ghost touch, as if her armor were an amputated limb?

Almost tender was that embrace even as she shook, each breath ripping the fight further and further away from her tight-fisted grip.

Every hair had stood on its end, the buzzing in the air ever-louder as her vision wavered, pain and fear battling for control over her conscious mind.

Each of her captor's steps feels like a stab to her chest.

There's a bloody exhale, preceding a breathless laugh. She feels the underside of his glove, leathery and worn, along her ribs.

She's disgusted by it now, she will forever be disgusted by it. She feels as if she's still in his grasp - she will never not be.

Luz had exhaled then, as she does now, and both times she coughed a mouthful of blood.

"Hush, now. We will be home soon." he told her and it echoes nw. "You had told me once… Your mother knows of medical practices, doesn't she?"

She rasps out;

"Don't bring her into this-" There's an edge of fear to her voice which she loathes, "Leave my mom alone."

"She would like to know her daughter was a hero, wouldn't she?" he asks, and it borders on genuine; "You've made mistakes-"

"Like you!" she regrets it in retrospect- it wouldn't have hurt so much if he hadn't squeezed her ribcage shut again then, to shut her up and hear nothing but her coughing blood.

He walked so slow. Agonizingly so, as if to stretch those last moments for eternity, cradling her somehow even closer, shifting her, knocking out of her lungs every last trace of a breath.

"The Titan greets us to his realm," he said, and against her cheek she felt the bobbing of his Adam's apple, nudging her in that moment to blink the tears from her eyes.

She feels her gaze pulled to it - this horrid doorway before which they linger taunts her for a brief moment, a sea of black tar streaked in deep blues and yellows.

And with a single step, the silence of it swallowed them whole. In the dark now, at least Luz could hear herself breathe-

Yet just as she did then, she smells it now;

Both times did she wheeze, fruitless, in an attempt to clear her sinuses from it. Titan's blood has a powerful, astringent, sulphuric smell.

It clung to her - maybe it is gone in the present because she simply got used to it.

"Clean up, lamb." he said, nudging her. He wanted her to take the edge of his cape, she understood. He made her bleed before - a tooth. The gap of it still stings.

"I hate you." she whispered.

That which surrounded her then was pure black, a realm where his steps slowed even further, dragged down by the brackish tar.

There was a light to guide them. She could not comprehend its source.

"I will help you get over it." he said, his words fading with no echo, as lost as their souls.

She loathed to know how he'd try. Pondered briefly if she'd clamp down on his neck with her teeth.

And then she questioned, to herself; could she even die here?

That which she doesn't know stings her.

A sound of anguish fought its way out of her.

And, though by that point she knows she had realized they were not all alone, Luz came to understand that nothing that heard her had turned to help.

In the dark, something moved. It was the hair standing on end, it was the light coming from nowhere.

She felt Belos move slower and slower. Did her eyes close? Or was the world simply so dark?

"Luz, quiet." she heard, and so still she became, nothing but the beat of her heart did she hear - for he'd sounded terrified.

Suddenly she understood, and it was clearer and brighter than the sun.

She heard it, paws heavy, wingtips dragging along the muck, and she understood it even before the smell of its rotting corpse reached them.

"Run."

That sets it off, alright.

The silence dies with that lonely word, whispered with bloody and bated breath.

It tore through the air and filled up her ears with a high-pitched ringing sound; A roar like she'd never heard before spelled their fate, set off the hammering of the chase;

In the dark, the mud rippled. The smell of rotting flesh and mold made her dizzy, pulled from Belos some sort of angry shout, that which was lost in the cacophony of the chase as soon as he let it out.

She only felt it from how close she was to his throat.

For once he'd obeyed, for once he'd heard a plea from her.

It mattered not.

To the ground they fell, and to her skin it clung, sticky and thick, pungent in smell, so terrible that Luz could taste it as she breathed in with an open mouth.

It slowed down its chase, and catch its breath it did not, though all around her in a circle did she feel its footsteps, rippling along the mud.

Along with their fate, it brought the light.

At first her vision's return was the catalyst for nothing but Belos' hand grasping onto hers, his eyes wide and teary as he pulled her close…

And then pushed her in front of him, almost, as their Lord fell upon shared view.

Luz thought, for a moment, that the sun perched between its horns would be a light shining upon a clean skull - for very clearly did she know what a Titan ought to look like;

And that was nothing of it.

Its skull was at first like shifting sand, but as her eyes focused on that white thing, Luz's mouth fell agape;

God's face was almost fully made of maggots. They blended with god's bones, the same color, separated only by the shadows Its Light cast upon its own visage.

It pushed against her head. It is God. It is the Devil. It is, for a second between her tears, her father in a hospital gown, the tubes coming from his nose like over-engorged, misplaced tapeworms.

Its flesh rippled as it got closer to them, something crawling in it. Clumps of oily black fur, strands clinging to greenish, gangrenous wounds.

Bile rose to the back of her throat just then, as her gaze drifted to the cut which sliced its chest open, and found nothing inside.

She knelt.

it was no conscious choice. She was told, and though she obeyed, never did she hear the order.

She opened her mouth, but instead of pleas, blood was all that flowed.

When the light is cast upon it, the red is all too bright, for the brief moment before Limbo swallows it.

The thing she looked up at was not her mother's God.

Padre Nostro rang in her ears nonetheless, Belos' hoarse voice praying under its rushed breath.

It let her look at him, pushed oh-how-pathetic-is-this-really-all-you-settled-for through her mind; Though he knelt, it was not without struggle.

He fought back, thrashing against the invisible binding which Luz found didn't truly hold her down.

God's understanding of her pushed the brain against the sides of the skull. She knew then that the little barriers between the bone and the skin and the brain were all shaky and jittery.

Out the deepest breath, a shaky hand reached out almost gleeful, and between her fingers she gripped his hair.

Not a word was said. Luz refused to let her eyes shut from the pain, even as it grew, for she had for very long wished for this;

With strength she hadn't known she had, she pushed Belos' head onto the mud.

Bow she did not, when she tasted her blood all over her mouth. She let it stain his cape and his hair.

It dripped and dripped. There came a muffled plea. She knew he told her this would not last. She also knew, without rhyme nor reason to explain it, that he'd remember this.

And yet, she kept pushing.

There was darkness creeping in slowly, overcoming the edges of her vision.

And yet, she kept pushing.

And for an eternity, she held him there. In the dim and the quiet, where it was only their breath and the buzzing of the flies and the smell of rotting flesh, she was reminded, bitter and vengeful, of their shared chambers.

She kept his head under the mud until he stopped thrashing.

Almost against her will, her head tilted up, and she met it eye to eye. Such a solution was hardly even temporary, she knew, and it knew as well, as it stared back.

Its eyes were empty sockets, yet she knew it saw her.

A blind thing could not hold such a hateful gaze.

Oh, what she'd done; Such small revenge for such grandiose malice.

The pressure of its words filled her mouth with copper.

It is dying. Its last breaths are being wasted here, with Its killers.

It is pain and desolation, it is hatred, and it is something too quiet to be wrath as she'd call it.

God knelt. It was Helios before, it was Nhanderu before, it was Kronos as Horus and a thousand other voices in name.

Luz heard screaming. Much louder, much more than just her own, though her throat hurt and she knew she was part of that unseen cacophony.

Her eyes could not shift from the maggots. Closer, closer, came a hypnotic dance as Luz dragged her body on its hands and knees.

For a second she did not understand it; And then, as her face rested against the pale bone of a snout, so cold it stung, it came to be that she knew it; the last shred of its power, the last bite of its plate - The last name of this God.

To know it was the same as her own overwhelmed her with a foreign, resentful grief.

An oversized paw tilted up her head with only its claw.

God held the sun between its horns. She stared transfixed, and laid trembling fingers over its talon, fruitlessly trying to keep its tender, cold touch.

Its wings spread open, a membrane full of holes and veins.

Which of them screamed? She wasn't sure. Everything faded, except for the sun, and the paw which was raised up to it, gripping onto the flame; Though its shape changed, its glow never dimmed. It was sharp and jagged. It was God.

And then, God stabbed the soft spot where spine snaps into skull.

Luz Noceda breathes in. That's the first sign that something is terribly, horribly wrong.

The second one? It's not the pain, but instead the fact that she can hear again, see again-

And her god is nowhere to be seen nor found.

She is doubled over. Her skin is opening up. The base of her skull, where God killed itself and killed her too, is on fire.

A whimper slips off with her breath, but with the next inhale, it turns into a cough. Her rib- no. It's further. It's more.

Everything is too much - she is light and defenseless, armor lost somewhere in this battlefield, and she is soft and shaky, hand on her chest, reaching for where it hurts. She knows something clattered to the floor when she awoke.

And then she remembers Belos.

Painfully, she manages to pry her eyes open, and figures that the thing on the floor – clean wood, worn out, its polish long faded – is an Azura figurine.

The cheap plastic meets her grimace with a blank, crooked, off-the-mold smile.

Her ears are buzzing. Did her brain hatch into flies?

"Mija, did you choke?"

At first hardly do those words register. But then, she realizes she had not been sure of whether or not her little stunt killed the emperor.

So she forces her spine to straighten, turns her head to face her mother.

She looks the same as she did a year ago, when she left Luz at the bus station to go to a summer camp- she looks the same as when Luz abandoned her.

The piercing burn of the blade stays, a cloying reminder of the mantle which befell her that day.

Though she is not there, Luz knows, clear as day:

Elsewhere, far away, at this moment, in a throne room occupied by only a grimwalker, sitting at the foot of both his metamorphosis, his death, and the throne of the emperor which he worships, the heart of a Titan with a thousand names stops beating.

#art #my art #digital art #artwork #toh #the owl house luz #the owl house #the owl house fanart #the owl house spoilers #toh belos #emperor belos #belos #luz noceda #canis caninam

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